The Betrayal BWAM

The Scars She Hid From The World

REGINA MCBRIDE

The heavy iron gates of the Wilderness Correction Camp groaned as they released me after three years of state-sponsored hell. I stood on the dirt road, clutching a plastic bag that held my entire life, waiting for the family that claimed they sent me there for "rehab." My brother, Brady, picked me up in a luxury SUV only to throw me out onto a deserted highway in the middle of a brewing storm. He told me I was a "public relations nightmare" and that the rain might finally wash the "stink" of the camp off me. He drove away, leaving me to limp miles through the mud on a snapped ankle. When I finally dragged myself to our family estate, my mother didn't offer a hug; she gasped in horror because my muddy clothes were ruining her Italian marble. They didn't give me my old room back. Instead, they banished me to a moldy gardener’s shack and hired a "babysitter" to make sure I didn't embarrass them further. My sister, Kaleigh, stood there in white cashmere, pretending to cry while clinging to her fiancé, Ambrose—the man who had once been mine. They all treated me like a volatile junkie, refusing to acknowledge that Kaleigh was the one who planted the drugs in my bag three years ago. They wanted to believe I was broken so they wouldn't have to feel guilty about the "wellness retreat" that was actually a torture chamber. I sat in the dark of that shed, feeling the cooling gel on the cigarette burns that covered my arms, and realized they had made a fatal mistake. They thought they had erased me, but I had returned with a roadmap of scars and a hidden satellite phone. At dinner, I didn't beg for their love. I simply rolled up my sleeves and showed them the price of their silence. As the wine spilled and the lies crumbled, I sent a single text to the only person I trusted: "I'm in. Let them simmer." The hunt was finally on.

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I could hear the joyful laughs emitting a door away from me. They were loud and blatantly happy, making my weak heart hide further into its shell. I had worked hard to work with steel and develop a rigid layer, but all that took to break past my shield and tear me apart was a single vulnerability; my attached feelings.

I truly cared for Iyaz and tolerated his careless ways

to keep him happy. He would disappear for days, with people warning me about him having another family, but I simply listened to the rumours with

calm. I believed that his absence meant little because of him

always returning back. My fragile and naive heart had assumed

that him coming back was hinting towards his heart caring for

me. Trust makes you do that...it makes you pick up every single gesture and colour it with hope 6 and maybes.

I was so used to ignoring my husband's heartless ways, always turning my nose in the other direction when he claimed to be attending a business meeting, yet people had seen him in places hanging out with a young woman

and a child. He depicted all signs

of disloyalty, and I let him.

My helper, Pinky-a young caucasian girl-she would often scold me for my weak and forgiving ways. She was adamant in convincing me that what I felt was nothing but toxic harming.

I wasn't having any of it. What Pinky didn't get was that I believed my feelings...completely trusted Iyaz's promises.. His secrets meant nothing to me. They couldn't tear up what I presumed to be the most real experience of my life. Yet, I had never been proven so wrong, until now.

Deciding to, for the first time in my life, follow my husband to one of his business meetings, park my car a street away from his, watch him enter a house where a child called him father and a woman (who used to work at his office)

was referred as his wife, stand outside that house's window and just stare at how Iyaz was treating his son with so much adoration...stuffing his arms with gifts, I was struck thunderously

by reality.

My hopes and dreams had so badly been crushed.

And suddenly, I was lost,

spluttering between what I had always assumed and what was

real. The harsh face of reality had literally made me feel suffocated.

The happy laughs were too real to

be faked. Only a strong emotion

could make one laugh like that.

Thus, rushing away from the house, I ran under the thundering sky and collapsed ona bench that was placed a few blocks away from the house. Strong wind was doing a good job in camouflaging

my tears and making me shiver with emotions. I deserved all the pain for being so foolish, for being so naive.

While hating myself in an empty street, I heard low shouts of my name floating over the pondering rain. Soon, the shouts seemed to grow anxious and louder as they neared me, and I finally managed to make out the silhouette behind the noises. It was Pinky.

Fuming, she neared me with anger and increased her phase

at my sight. Her fragile ways were making it hard for her fight against the wind and run. Quickly engulfing me in a warm hug, she then moved away and scolded.

"Are you out of your mind? What were you thinking?” She scowled, wiping her face. Seldom

wind was making her shake. She seemed like a much-needed friend in this midst of pain.

"I have lost him, Pinky,” I glumly spoke, staring at the closed shops right across the road. "I have

finally realized that he never

cared.” I sniffed, feeling a pang as

I said it out loud. Speaking made

this epiphany more real. | 4 |

"There, there,” she sympathised, sitting down next to me. "Tell me what happened?" She tilted her head towards me, making me turn and meet her eyes. The warmth in her gentle eyes and the familiar vibes of strength and pure concern emitting from her soul made me grow even more emotional and broken. Iyaz had left me feeling so lonely

"Pinky, he doesn't care,” I sobbed, crying my heart out. "I chose to be patient, accepting and even kind with him, but that wasn't enough.

I wasn't enough,” I emphasized

now pushing my face into the

palm of my hands. The sound

of the seemed to be making me

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